God of Cooking

Chapter 269: Chef’s greed is endless (6)

The pig’s voice turned sadly. The pig stood up from the toilet. When it moved one, two, three steps, the pig put its hand on the ground. Its hands became feet, and its clothes became leather and hair. The pig looked up with an effort and looked at Min-joon.

“How can I become the main character?”

Min-joon could not easily give an answer and slowly stroked the pig’s neck.

Its neck had no pearls anymore. Even if the pig’s neck was decorated with any kind of accessory, it would still look funny if it didn’t look like a pig at all.

“Sorry. I’m not sure yet.”

‘Maybe you can never be the main character in the first place.’ Min-joon thought that way for a moment, but he couldn’t tell it to the pig.

The pig murmured something after lowering its head, “You can do it anytime. Can you put the dress on me?”

“You mean the dress you put on before?”

“No. You said I looked ridiculous with that dress. Please put on me a dress that can make me look beautiful. Please make that dress for me. Will you?”

Honestly, Min-joon wasn’t sure. But he could not ignore the pig’s desperate eyes.

So, he hugged the pig’s neck tightly and said, “Yes, I promise.”

How long had it passed since he held the pig tightly like that? He suddenly questioned how come the pig’s head was so light as to be held in his arms. And he was waking from his dream when he started to question it. He opened his eyes with an effort.

Kaya, who was held in his arms so tightly at the moment, was staring at him with her eyes mixed with irritation and sleepiness.

“Hey, can’t you let go of your arms, if you are awake?”

“Why am I here? Oops, it’s our house.”

“It looks like you went to other houses often?” She asked in a cold voice.

With a sigh, he released her from his chest with an exhausted expression.

“I saw a very cute girl in my dream.”

“I’m not going to forgive you even if you confess like that.

“Even if the girl is a pig?”

“Are you on drugs?” She asked, looking at him with a perplexed expression.

That was the way she typically responded to his strange reply.

He said vaguely, “I decided to put the clothing on the pig, something suitable for a pig.”

“Did you really take drugs? What the heck is that weird dream?”

“So I’m trying to put it on.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Just shut up and go to sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, let’s go to sleep.”

He smiled at her then pulled the blanket over her. One of her sleeping habits that he discovered while living with her was that she kept kicking and removing the blanket.

He patted her on the shoulder as if to humor a baby. He couldn’t sleep easily even after she fell asleep soundly.

He had a lot on his mind at the moment. All kinds of works of art that he saw in the gallery came to his mind, and the sad eyes of the pig were not missed on his mind.

He wanted to go to the kitchen and make something, but he was afraid he would bother Kaya and Anderson’s sleep with any noise from the kitchen. It was 3 AM, definitely not a time to cook.

Even if he tried to sleep again, he couldn’t because he was so full of cooking ideas that he could not go to sleep. After agonizing for a moment, he got into the driver’s seat of the van.

It wasn’t Rose Island that he was heading for. It was not a secluded vacant lot or a beach.

It was Lisa’s bakery. By the time he parked the van, Marco went out to the door with a confused expression.

“What the heck?! Min-joon, what’s up at this time?”

“You don’t need any help?”

“If you can help me, that’s great…”

“Then let me help you.”

Min-joon looked at Marco, volunteering to help. Fortunately, Lisa, who was standing behind Marco, didn’t kick him out.

“Come in. Are you ready for hard work?”

“Of course. I think I have to do something, no matter what.”

Otherwise, he felt like his head would burst.

Unlike her bluffing, Lisa didn’t give her a hard job. In fact, the most difficult thing in cooking was kneading the dough, but it was not Min-joon’s specialty.

As a result, all he could do was just boil water or sprinkle flour, preheat the oven, check it, and carry the dough. When he was done putting the matured dough in the same shape then putting it on the oven, Lisa opened her mouth, looking at the orange-lit oven.

“Min-joon, Isn’t it beautiful?”

“You mean the dough?”

“All of it—subtle light, doughs made in almost the same shape, white skin, and the slow bloating of doughs. Also, the smell of gluten getting thicker.”

“Maybe you like this moment.”

“I think this moment is more attractive than the finished bread. Humans are cuter when they are still babies than adults.”

Since he didn’t bake often, he couldn’t figure out how she felt at the moment.

He just smiled, watching the boiling soup or broth occasionally.

Lisa said in a calm voice, “It’s all the same dough that I put in the oven, but it has a completely different savory texture on the outside and inside. I like bread. I can make it intuitively, but you can’t bring out the same taste.”

“We make it in the same way, but it tastes different…”

Min-joon seemed to hit upon something at that, but he couldn’t figure it out exactly.

After all, he gave up agonizing and asked feebly, “What do you think is the essence of bread?”

“Essence?”

“Well, I’m thinking about it a lot these days. I think you can make the best food when you bring out its essence. In that sense, I want to know what the essence of bread is.”

“Well, I can describe bread broadly, but it’s a bit difficult to define it narrowly. If I have to point out one thing, bread plays a supporting role or something like that?”

“Really?”

“If you look at a gourmet dinner, you can hardly find any bread in the main. Most of it comes out as pre-dinner bread or as a side dish, or even a dessert. Of course, bread takes a dominant role in our daily lives, but we rarely eat bread alone. We mostly make sandwiches with bread.”

“What you mean is bread stands out most when it meets something else?”

Min-joon looked into the air without finishing his words. His eyes began to tremble as if they saw something. By the time Lisa looked at him a little anxiously, he suddenly stood up.

He turned to Marco and opened his mouth.

“Marco, help me.”

“What’s up?”

“I have a recipe I want to complete. Right there… I need your bread,” Min-joon said

***

“Oh my, I didn’t know I would do it again.”

“At least you don’t have to remove the egg yolk.”

“Chef, can’t I just do it by myself? I’m really worried that you might collapse. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You are lying. I see huge bags under your eyes.”

Maya looked at his face with an anxious expression.

In fact, his double eyelids, which weren’t usually present, were formed clearly due to his tiredness with bags under his eyes. Besides, he looked haggard.

But he said with a playful smile, “If I fall, let me leave the rest of the work to you.”

“You’re talking as if you were on a battlefield.”

“Because the kitchen is a battlefield.”

He then put water in the pot in the oven only enough to provide adequate moisture to Cassoulet. The success of Cassoulet depended on how well the crust was cooked.

“Next time, please don’t do anything so tough like this. Or leave it to me. You’re stuck here for more than six hours now.”

“It’s not hard at all because I’ve got a strong assistant like you.”

“You know what? It’s harder for someone like me to watch it. Now, here it is.”

Then she took something out of her apron pocket and handed it to him. It was jelly.

When he looked at her, she said with a determined look, “It’s vitamin jelly. It doesn’t taste good but eat it anyway. Otherwise, I’m going to overwork like you.”

“Thanks.”

“Please take it first before talking to me.”

“Okay. My mom doesn’t care about anything like this.”

“I’m not a top chef yet, but I’m a top assistant, right?” She said rather proudly.

Right at that moment, Marco brought a hot baguette to Min-joon.

He said in a slightly nervous voice, “I made it the way you ordered. It’s an authentic baguette. It has no butter, I brought out its crispy taste as much as possible. Of course, I brought out its soft and chewy texture as much as possible.”

“Yes, thanks.”

He put it in his mouth, first its skin then its flesh. A smile was on his face soon.

“I think this will do.”

“Thanks.”

With a smile, Marco crossed his fingers as if he was shy.

What he came up with was one. Namely, he wanted to keep Cassoulet as original as it was, but made it from a different angle. He didn’t recreate Cassoulet but disassembled it.

A little later, the oven made an alarm sound. Min-joon took out Cassoulet and carefully checked its condition. The upper part that was heated was crispy while the lower part was cooked relatively moist.

‘What I have to do is not to be conceited but to do art.’

People might think it was hard to compare the two, but if they look a little deeper, they could find it out. Min-joon carefully cut the baguette. After he separated the rough outer part and soft part inside, he placed the bread on a long square stone plate.

He then put the crust of the crispy cooked Cassoulet on the inside, and its relatively humid part on the outside. The difference between the two was not simply its savory texture. Even when they eat fried rice, the sticky rice on the pot tasted differently from the rice on the top.

That was the answer he found finally. A pig was a pig. If a pig put on a human dress, it would only look unnatural. But it didn’t necessarily mean that all pigs were ugly. If one washed the pig’s body, massage its body, and even put on a pretty flower necklace around its neck, it would look beautiful even modestly.

‘I’ll keep my promise.’

Min-joon raised the plate with Cassoulet. Then, he headed to Rachel’s office silently.

He put the plate silently on her desk. She looked into the plate quietly. She felt strange at the moment. Only Cassoulet was on the bread. But she felt some intense beauty in it.

“Baguette and Cassoulet. Is that all?”

“The dual taste of baguette and the dual taste of Cassoulet. I mixed that.”

“You are greedy.”

He just smiled at her meaningful comment then set a fork and knife in front of her instead of answering. She lifted the fork. She picked the bread and put it in her mouth.

She didn’t open her mouth for some time.